


Salt of the Earth

by Iron_Angel



Category: Fallout 4
Genre: Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Fantastic Racism, Ghoul Sex, MacGuffins, Outdoor Sex, welcome to rare pair hell
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-03
Updated: 2017-07-03
Packaged: 2018-11-23 01:47:06
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,773
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11392794
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Iron_Angel/pseuds/Iron_Angel
Summary: After a dust-up with a settler at Tenpines Bluff, Nora escorts a young ghoul to The Slog, where she'll be accepted and better cared for. Nora herself likes it better there as well, and not just for the tarberries.





	Salt of the Earth

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: *insert standard "don't own, no profits made" jargon here*
> 
> UnBeta'd. So all mistakes/typos are mine. I'll correct them as I find them.
> 
> The salt of the earth: a person of great kindness, reliability, or honesty.

A part of Nora knew, deep down, that she was going to have problems with Oscar and Marjorie Howard when the brother-sister pair of Tenpines Bluff immediately drew their guns on her the day she had knocked on the door of their shack. She brushed it off as paranoia. Raiders had tormented them to the point that they were desperate enough to call on the Minutemen despite believing the militia had fallen apart. Fresh out of the Vault and ignorant of too much about this "new world," she had done them the service of taking out the gang.

It took a long time for Nora to realize she had fallen prey to the Ben Franklin effect.

They needed defenses, so she jury-rigged an old turret she found in the wrecked train cars below the cliffs of the homestead. Their shack was full of holes and did nothing to keep the rain out, so she repurposed one of the car's sliding doors into a new roof. Their water pump was barely functional, so she disassembled it, scrubbed the rust away with a scrunched ball of stripped cable wire, and put it back together, good as new.

It had helped her take her mind off the anxiety of trying to find her lost son for a little while, and she agreed with Preston; there was benefit in making friends and allies in the Wastes.

Time eventually came to call in the return favor. The Howards had the excess land and agreed to let her build housing and crops for other settlers on to their property so long as it was clear to everyone that they were in charge and had the final say in all community matters. They weren't the friendliest of neighbors, but she really couldn't complain since they'd given more than she would have expected to make the settlement thrive. A homestead under the care of the Minutemen General meant easier living with protection from the different raiding parties, human or otherwise, and essentially free construction and repairs.

They weren't outright hostile, so Nora politely ignored the Howards' somewhat bullying nature. She couldn't be sure exactly what Oscar had said to Hancock when they'd come to help take down the yao guai that had made a den in the collapsed house near the train tracks. She knew the mayor of Goodneighbor had a less than stellar reputation with the people outside of his little town, so it made sense that people wouldn't be happy to have him around. It still sent up little red flags as Marjorie ignored Hancock at dinner service, and Oscar refused to sit at the communal table while the mayor was there. When she tried to talk about it, Hancock brushed it off and told her not to worry.

She should listened to her instincts, though.

"I'm not having any goddamn ghouls on my property!" Oscar shouted in her face. "That thing," he jabbed a finger toward the ghoul female standing near the gates, looking like she wanted cry but putting on a brave face, "needs to get the hell out of here before it gets put down!"

Nora clenched her fists, standing ramrod straight, and leveled a blistering glare at the man. " _She_ has every right to be here! _Everyone_ is welcome in my settlements!"

"This ain't _your_ settlement! This is _my_ land! You and your people are here on _my_ permission and good faith! I ain't running the risk of that thing going feral and killing us all, so get it the fuck out of here!"

God, she wanted to punch him, but she knew it would only make matters worse. Everyone had stopped what they were doing and had gathered to watch the shouting match. A quick glance at the crowd's faces told her that, while a few looked on with sympathy toward the ghoul, most agreed with Oscar.

Fucking racists.

"Watch yourself, Mr. Howard," she growled. "You owe the Minutemen."

"Which is why I ain't kicking every single one of you off my property right this second! Take the ghoul somewhere else, or take all of your people!"

Shit.

"General, ma'am?"

Nora turned to look at the ghoul woman. She looked so small and scared. Radiation syndrome made it impossible to tell how old she was. She could be as old as Nora, pre-war, or even just a teenager. The sad truth, however, was that it was obvious this kind of treatment wasn't anything new to her.

"Please, I don't want any trouble with these people," she said in her quiet rasp. "I'll just leave."

Nora softened her stance. "I'll go with you. I know of someplace better that you'll be welcome." She cast a black look at Oscar, and the man folded his arms across his chest in defiance. "Don't think that this discussion is over, Mr. Howard. I will be back to speak with you later."

He turned his head and spit on the ground. "Whatever you say... _General_."

Might be easier just to shoot him, she mused.

~

Wiseman had once told her that he named it The Slog after a trader had made a comment on how the trip was a "slog". At the time, she hadn't thought much of it. She'd been in the general area of Malden when Preston had relayed via radio that the ghoul-run settlement needed help.

Alone, she was fine, but escorting the young ghoul woman (Nell, and she was indeed very young compared to all the ghouls Nora had met thus far) to the repurposed recreation facility had been one hell of a hike. Nell did her best to not be a burden, but it was quickly apparent that she was not fighter material. One near-disaster with a swarm of stingwings and both women agreed it would be best that Nell hid in safety rather than engage in combat alongside Nora.

"I think you'll like it here," Nora said as she climbed the stairs up to the pool house. "Everyone's very nice and easy-going."

Nell eyed the many turrets along the roof on the concrete building. "Seems to be a lot of security," she commented. "What is this place?"

"Tarberry bog," said Wiseman, stepping out of the building to greet them. "Only one of it's kind in the Commonwealth." He offered his hand to the newcomer. "I'm Wiseman. You might consider me the leader of this little operation."

"Not quite as little as it used to be," Nora corrected. To Nell, she said, "It's surrounded on all sides by some form of threat. Mirelurks coming up from the lake, or the Forged from the ironworks, or even the occasional supermutant patrol. As a result, I keep it as maintained and fortified as the Castle." She patted the side of the building. "This old thing is your best bet to bunker down in when trouble shows up. Let the guns do the work."

Wiseman turned his attention to her. "Good to see you again, General. What brings you and your friend to us today?"

She shook her head, smiling. "Wiseman, please, just 'Nora'. And Nell here is in need of a home."

"Works out nicely, then. We're needing an extra hand with the corn crop. Well, Miss Nell, you any good at gardening?"

Nell stood to attention. "Yes sir, Mr. Wiseman!"

The older ghoul chuckled. "No need for the 'mister'." He waved toward the door of the building. "Run along inside and speak with Holly. She's the one with the white hair. She can help you get settled in."

When the door shut behind the young woman, Wiseman again turned to Nora. "More to the story?" he asked.

She sighed, running a hand over her face. "A Diamond City type running roughshod over newcomers in another settlement." For the sake of trade relations, it was best she wasn't too specific, no matter how much she still would like to throttle Oscar Howard. "I can't tell you much about her save that she's not good with a gun, but can take orders well. Just another lost soul trying to survive."

"The Slog is a sanctuary for all ghouls," he reminded. "Thank you for bringing her here. Now, since it's getting close to nightfall, can I talk you in to staying for dinner? Jones's night to cook."

She grinned. "Can't turn that down."

~

It wasn't _exactly_ like pre-war cooking, but Jones's was far and away the closest Nora had gotten to in a very long time. She sat back in her patio chair with a contented sigh, staring mesmerized at the low lighting playing across the water of the swimming pool-turned-hydroponic garden, enjoying the evening air.

As usual, the farmhands had all gone to bed, hard labor of the day putting them down early. Jones finished up his kitchen duty. Deirdre closed up her cabinet of wares and locked it. Holly shuffled the half-asleep Nell off to her new bunk before retiring to her own. All done for the night.

Except Wiseman.

He came around the side of Arlen's workshop, pausing when he caught sight of her. "Gen-- er, Nora," he acknowledged with a slight bow of his head.

She returned it. "Wiseman. Surprised you're still up."

"My night to check the defenses and walk the perimeter." He turned to the workshop and pulled the door closed, sliding the latch into place; it kept out wandering creepy-crawlies.

"Care for some company?" she asked, sliding out of the chair. "It's still too early for me to fall asleep yet."

He nodded. "I would appreciate it."

Together, they made short work of inspecting the turrets and spotlights and locking up the gates. Nora was pleased to see that they, unlike some of her other settlements, had been keeping everything in good working order. It was a bittersweet sort of relief that The Slog rarely called on her for extra help. She liked it here.

"Things seem to be doing well," she commented as they walked side by side around the edges of the settlement. "Everything's working as it should."

"Thanks to your excellent craftsmanship."

She huffed a laugh and waved him off. "Oh, please, I'm novice at best. It's thanks to you guys maintaining it so well."

He shrugged. "Seemed to be the best way to show our appreciation, keeping it up."

"Wish all of the settlements I help out thought that way."

They had come to the rock face at the far end of the perimeter. Wiseman climbed it with practiced ease, then turned to offer her a hand up. She took it immediately, and he froze.

She blinked up at him. "What's wrong?"

He stared at her for a split second, then shook his head and pulled her up. "Sorry, you just caught me by surprise. It's one thing to help out a ghoul, treat them like a normal person, but... smoothskins balk at touching one." He looked down at their hands still clasped. "You didn't even flinch."

Nora's breath caught as he brought his other hand up to lightly touch the back of hers, his scarred and work-roughened fingers sliding over her knuckles to her wrist. He seemed entranced for a moment, then his dark eyes flicked back up to hers and he let her go.

"Sorry." He cleared his throat, looking away. "Just, you know... over 200 years since..."

Touch-starved.

She didn't understand. She was pre-war; meeting a non-feral ghoul for the first time had been a little unnerving, but she quickly got used to it. The denizens of the Commonwealth, even dwellers from the other Vaults, had no excuse for how they treated ghouls. And honestly, Wiseman could easily be counted as one of the handsomest, in her opinion. Right up there with Hancock.

"Wiseman?"

He turned to look at her.

She reached up to cup his cheek. His eyes widened and his mouth fell open slightly, but the rest of him went as still as stone. He didn't pull away, so she took it as an okay to bring her other hand up to his other cheek. He moved then, reaching up to circle his own hands around her wrists, but still not pulling away. Tilting her head slightly, she leaned forward and kissed him.

A heartbeat later, his arms were wrapped around her waist, pulling her into him and bending her back slightly as he took over the kiss. She let out a pleased hum as his tongue lightly brushed her bottom lip and she parted them to let him slide it inside. She expected it to be feverish, rushed, maybe even a little inexperienced. Instead, he surprised her; he was taking his time, and she realized he was _savoring_ her.

Damn having to breathe, she thought as she pulled back slightly.

Wiseman wasn't letting up, though. One hand sliding up into her hair -- the other had moved down to boldly squeeze her ass -- he tilted her head back to kiss his way down her neck to the top of her breastbone before the collar of her shirt stopped him from going any further.

"Wise, please, _more_ ," she whispered to the stars.

Hands back on her waist, he straightened to look her in the eyes, searching. Then, "Anything," he said softly, kissing her lips, her cheekbones, the sensitive patch of skin below her ear. "Everything."

Taking her by the hand again, he turned and began leading her back down the rock face to a thick stand of brush just beyond the far corner of the vegetable garden. They could still see the lights along the top of the pool house, but they were well out of sight of the doors and windows.

Wiseman lowered himself to the ground, tugging her down to him. Straddling his hips, she let him pull her shirt up over her head before she set to work unfastening his jeans. He was thin enough that it was hardly an effort. Hers, on the other hand, were a bit more trouble. Once she worked them off, her patience was gone. The time for going slow was over.

He reached between them, sliding a finger along her slit and over her clit. She drew a sharp breath through her teeth, causing him to stop and look up at her.

"I'm wet enough." Really, she was. Had been becoming increasingly so since they had started to kiss, turned on by his boldness. "Please, Wise, I want you in me now."

He looked like he was about to argue, but she gripped his already fully erect cock, stroking it a few times. He snapped his mouth shut and nodded as his eyes fluttered closed. He gripped her hips as she moved up over him, lining him up, then sliding down his length unto he was fully buried inside of her.

Wiseman's patience was now gone as well. Grabbing a double handful of her ass, he coaxed her back and forth at a hard pace, pushing up as she came down. It was rough. It was frantic. Half-clothed and in the dirt, it was wonderful.

Grit scraping her knees and the stars watching, Nora threw her head back with loud gasp as she came.

Wiseman pulled out, taking himself in one hand as he continued to rock her with the other, sliding between her folds and against her clit until he followed with a low growl.

"Damn shame, this," he sighed a few minutes later, pulling a bandana out of the back pocket of his jeans to clean up the mess on both of their stomachs. "You deserve better than on the ground, hiding behind a dead bush."

"I don't mind it at all," she said with a soft chuckle, finding her underwear and jeans and pulling them back on. Both of them redressed, she laid back down with him, resting her head against his chest. "Been a long time since I've had a good romp under the stars." She reached down to lightly rub at her skinned knee. "But I think I'll build myself an apartment or personal living quarters of some sort for next time."

Wiseman went still again, barely even breathing.

Nora felt it and, panicking a little, backpedaled a bit. "If you'll let me, that is." Oh, she could kick herself. "I'm sorry, I should ask permission first and not just assume. It's your homestead, after all."

Not getting a response, she sat up to look at him.

He stared at her, the night sky reflecting in his wide black eyes. "You said 'next time'. There'll be a next time?" He sounded so hopeful.

She smiled, leaning down to kiss the ridge above his nose cavity. "Yeah. If you'll let me."

**Author's Note:**

> The "Ben Franklin effect": A person who has performed a favor for someone is more likely to do another favor for that person than they would be if they had received a favor from that person. (I swear to god this has got to be the whole idea behind the settlement system of Fallout 4.)
> 
> Thank you for reading. Kudos and comments are always appreciated.


End file.
